Rock With Me(4)

“You needed a break too?”



***



~Leo~



“Holy shit!” She jumps and spins to look up at me, hand pressed against her chest, bright blue eyes wide, and I have to grip the railing at my hips to keep myself from crossing to her and kissing the hell out of her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” I smile at her and watch the dialogue of decisions running through that sexy head of hers. Should she smile? Scowl? Straighten those shoulders?

I would love to try to knock that chip off her shoulder.

“I just needed a minute away from the noise.” She swallows and looks back out at the trees. “Are you having fun?”

I smirk and cross my arms over my chest. “You have a great family, but it’s a lot of activity for me.”

“You’re used to fifty thousand screaming fans in one room, Leo. I can’t imagine this is too much activity for you.”

“That’s different. It’s my job.” It’s my life.

“Well, this group is a lot to handle. Especially at one time.” She smiles softly at me and then seems to remember to gather herself and look away.

Interesting.

“Meg wanted me to come, so here I am.” It’s the truth, and I’d do it again. Meg belongs to this family now, so I’ll do what I can to fit in and make her happy.

Aside from my band, Meg-pie is my only family.

“That was nice of you.” She sneers over the word nice and I can’t help but laugh out right and cross to her.

“Believe it or not, doll, I can be nice.”

She shrugs and watches my hands as I grip the railing again. She watched my hands the other day too, and I can’t help but wonder if the tats turn her on, or turn her off.

There is usually no middle ground there, and I don’t give a fuck either way.

She takes a deep, shaky breath and looks up into my face, her eyes a little brighter and pink lips slightly parted. Definitely turned on.

I can work with this.

I lift my hand to her cheek but she flinches, and I can’t help the surge of pure anger at her reaction. Who the fuck put that in her?

“Easy.” I pull some lint out of her hair and show it to her before letting it drop to the ground.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“So, what do you do for fun?” I ask.

“Why?” she asks, her eyes narrowed.

“Because I don’t know you very well, and we’re sharing a porch, so we might as well have a conversation.” God, she’s so cold.

What would it take to warm her up?

“I run.” She shrugs.

“Run?” I ask.

“Yes, you know, where you put on sneakers and move quickly in a forward motion?”

She’s fucking adorable when she’s being sarcastic. She has a great, raspy voice, lower for a woman. She’s not squeaky at all. I can’t imagine her ever yelling, “Wooot!” when she’s drunk.

Her voice is fucking amazing.

“I do understand the concept, yes, but what kind of running do you do?”

“Marathons.”

My eyes travel down her small, firm body. She’s skinnier than I usually like, but she’s toned. I remember how her slim arms felt in my hands the other day and how light she was to pull to her feet.

She loves to run.

So do I.

Maybe we have stuff in common after all. I wonder what kind of music she listens to.

“How long have you been running marathons?” I ask and motion for her to sit beside me on the stairs.

“Since high school. I ran track, and there are some great marathons here in Seattle throughout the year.”

“I know, I’ve run in some of them.” I nod and lean back on my elbows.

“You run too?” Her eyes are wide and happy, and I see those walls slowly begin to come down.

“When I find time, yeah. I prefer running outside, but when we’re on tour I have to take advantage of the hotel gyms.”

“I run outside too. Running on a treadmill is not the same thing.” She nods and offers me a half smile and my breath leaves me. Samantha Williams is beautiful, with her light blonde hair and big blue eyes, but when she smiles, she could make the gods weep.

I might have to write a song about her smile.

“I usually run in the mornings before the city wakes up,” she adds and I frown down at her.

“Where do you live?” I ask.

“Downtown,” she replies vaguely.

“Downtown in which city?” I ask with growing impatience.

“Seattle,” she responds and scowls at me. “Why?”

I have to take a deep breath before I yell at her. “Do you mean to tell me that you run in downtown Seattle in the early morning? Do you have a partner?”

“Yes, I run in the early morning. Alone.”